Last Sunday, a shoplifter loaded a cart full of electronics and headed for the door of the Park West Place Walmart. A security guard stopped him at the door.

The security guard tried to take the shoplifter into custody. The shoplifter, a 44-year-old male in red shirt, jeans and red tennies, resisted.

"The shoplifter was screaming, "I need this! I don't have any money, and I'm just trying to get Christmas gifts for my family," recounted Jacqueline D.

She withheld her last name for fear of retaliation.

The guard repeatedly commanded the shoplifter to come along. The shoplifter bristled and refused. They argued; the shoplifter pushed the guard. It seemed the situation was escalating.

So D.'s husband, a police officer who was with her, rushed to the guard's aid. The shoplifter found himself face down on the floor with a knee in his back.

During this scuffle, the shoplifter's wallet flew out. A female Walmart employee scooped it up.

"She went to open the wallet and said, 'Oh, wow! There's a ton of money in here," D. recalled.

So much for not having any money.

D.'s husband took the shoplifter by the arm and marched him to the security office. He emerged a couple minutes later.

"That's it?" his wife asked.

"That's it," he said.

The D.s went about their shopping. But something bothered Jacqueline: No one at Walmart said "Thank you" to her husband. Not one. They had not even asked his name.

Asked Jacqueline, "You're going to let this guy go who saved your store at least $1,000 without getting a phone number and saying 'Thank you,' or anything? It's disappointing."

It gnawed at her. "Two words. That's all that I really want for my husband. He deserves that."

As for her husband, "He doesn't get worked up over things like I do. But he does believe it would have been nice for somebody to say, 'Hey, thank you.' "

So do I. So, probably, do you. So I went to the Park West Place Walmart and asked to speak to the manager.

A lower-order manager appeared. "I'm not allowed to say anything," she said, and turned her back on me. She would have brushed me off had I not pressed.

I asked her for a higher-up. After five minutes a mid-level manager appeared. She couldn't say anything, either. I asked for the top guy. The top guy was in a meeting. I waited.

Presently, the top guy appeared. "What I can do is refer you to our Media Hotline," he said.

I said, "You mean, you can't just say 'Thank you' to this man?'

"What I'm going to do is refer you to our Media Hotline," the top guy repeated robotically.

He wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary, he was very cordially robotic, like C-3PO in "Star Wars."

He even called the Media Hotline for me. Nice of him, though I already had a call in. He was also nice enough to walk me to the door. I left without a "Thank you."

Walmart is headquartered in Bentonville, Ark. Presently.

I got a call from Walmart spokeswoman Dianna Gee.

"Basically," said Gee, "while we do appreciate his efforts, we never encourage customers or associates to put themselves in harm's way over merchandise. That's really all I have."

I blew a gasket. I told Gee that the off-duty policeman's decision to get involved was good citizenship; he wasn't just protecting merchandise, unless Walmart classifies security guards as merchandise; that Walmart was going to come off as a rule-bound corporate monolith staffed by a bunch of lock-stepping cyborgs lacking in basic decency; and why was it so hard to say "Thank you," for God's sake?

When I was done spluttering. Gee modified her statement.

"If you give me their name and number, I'll personally call them and thank them," she said. "I don't want them to have a bad taste in their mouth. Obviously, respect for the individual is one of our core beliefs."

Obviously.

I gave the names and number to Gee and told Jacqueline to expect a call. Jacqueline said she was pleased - "If I feel they are truly sincere," she added.